Big Patty: Superstar
by MeganKoumori
Summary: Patty and her parents are offered a chance to star in their very own reality show. But is it worth it? Is it even reality?
1. Chapter 1

1:

* * *

Mrs. Smith picked up a package of baloney off the hook. "Patty dear, would you like anything else for lunch?"

The large sixth grader looked at the full rows of cheese and sandwich meats. "Well there is one thing…" She walked down a little further where the hooks turned into shelves. She picked a plastic yellow square. "May I please get these?"

Her mother took it. "Lunchables?"

"They're really good, Mom. They have crackers and cheese and a drink, and look. It even comes with a little chocolate square."

"Sounds delicious." Mrs. Smith looked at the price attached to the shelf. "Oh dear me!"

"What is it, Mom?"

"It's just that it's so expensive for an awfully little bit of food…" Patty looked disappointed. Mrs. Smith hated that look. Patty rarely asked for anything special at the store. "Well, I guess we could. I mean, I'll just have to put one loaf of bread back, but..."

Patty took the package back. "No Mom, I don't need it." She placed it on the shelf with the others.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Mom." Patty gave her a small smile. "Baloney is just fine. Really." She began to push the cart away. "Canned veggies next?"

"You got it."

As the mother and daughter pair moved down the aisle, a man with fallow brown skin peeked at them from behind a magazine. He had a black goatee, a shiny shaved head, sunglasses, and was wearing a lavender colored suit and dark purple tie. Placing the magazine back over his face, he began to push his cart after them.

Neither noticed. "Mom," asked Patty. "Is something wrong? I mean, you're buying all generic stuff again."

Mrs. Smith sighed and picked up a can of store brand lima beans. "Money's just a little tight right now. The DMV is cutting back my hours and there's a strike at your father's factory, so things aren't going so good there either. In fact, he's probably going to lose his job soon."

"Why's that, Mom?" Patty checked the list and reached for a can of sweet potatoes that was beyond her mother's short arms.

"Bagheera Shoes is moving overseas to China or Taiwan. One of those Asian countries where the labor is cheaper. But its okay," said Mrs. Smith. "We've been broke before and we'll probably be broke again, but we always survive. Let's get some food for Mittel, and then we can go and pick up your father."

As they started to turn, Patty stopped. "What's the matter, Dear?" Asked her mother.

Patty frowned. She was watching the man in purple, who still had the magazine over his face and was blindly groping at cans.

"Why doesn't he take the magazine down?" Asked Patty suspiciously.

"He's probably just absorbed in a good article," said Mrs. Smith. "Now come along, Sweetie."

As soon as they were gone, he pulled down the magazine and smiled. He reached inside his purple jacket and pulled out a cell phone. Speed dialing, he put it to his ear. "Yeah, Jerry? I think I found the ones we're looking for…"

* * *

There was a mob of people surrounding the car as Mrs. Smith tried to navigate toward the giant factory. They held signs and chanted, "OUTSOURCING UNFAIR! OUTSOURCING UNFAIR!"

Patty slunk down in her seat. She was a big girl, fully capable of defending of herself, but even this crowd made her nervous.

"There he is!" Mrs. Smith said. She guided the car slowly toward the factory doors where Mr. Smith was waiting. He wore a hard helmet and held a big metal lunchbox. He waved.

As the vehicle got closer, the swarm began to close in. Protestors began to bang angrily on the roof and windows. Mrs. Smith blasted the horn but it did no good.

Mr. Smith was fighting his way through the mess when suddenly someone yelled, "Scab! Get the scab!" Someone grabbed him.

"Please!" He pleaded. "I'm only doing this to support my family!"

Patty slammed the car door open so hard it banged. She roughly shoved the strikers aside and marched up to the man who was holding her father. "Let him go. Now." She ordered.

The man sneered. "Or what are you going to do, girly? You don't want me hurting your midget daddy…" In a second the striker was on the ground, blood trickling from his lower lip.

Patty rubbed her knuckles. "He's a dwarf, Scum Face." She looked at the rest of the crowd. "Anyone else?"

Automatically everyone stepped aside, clearing a path to the car. "Come on, Dad. Let's go home."

As Patty held the car door open for her father, Mrs. Smith cried, "Henry, Patty, are you ok?"

Patty slid into the back and held up her hand. "My knuckles kinda hurt."

"We'll get some ice for them when we get home, Sweetie." Mrs. Smith put the car in drive. As they pulled out, no one noticed the black sports car across the street begin to follow.

* * *

As the Smiths neared their home, Mrs. Smith said, "Oh no, Henry! I just thought of something! How are we going to pay rent this month? We already cancelled cable and the phone! Where are we going to come up with the money for our lease?"

Patty leaned over the front seat. "You don't have to give me my allowance."

"Patty!"

"Come on, I don't need it. And if you want, you can have my savings too. I've got thirty-four dollars."

Mr. Smith looked at his wife. "It couldn't hurt, Zelda…" He said quietly.

"Henry!" To Patty, she said, "Dear, you're far too generous. You shouldn't have to suffer because times are tough. No, you keep your money." She parked in front of the house.

As Patty got out and unlocked the trunk, the black sports car stopped and the man in purple stepped out. "Hey, I know you." Patty said. "You were at the grocery store. What do you want?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Henry and Zelda Smith?"

Mrs. Smith looked a little uneasy. "Y-Yes?"

The man in purple reached into his jacket. Quick as a flash, Patty was in front of her parents. "Back off, Buddy." She held up a fist.

He gently pushed it down. "You're spunky! I like that! I like it a lot!"

"Huh?"

He reached back into his jacket. "My card!"

He handed it to Mr. Smith, who read, "'Lyle J. Lyleson. Television Producer.'"

"That's right! And you must be their charming daughter, Patsy."

"Patty." She answered. She didn't like this stranger.

"Mr. and Mrs. Smith, I am prepared to offer you the chance of a lifetime!" He held up his hands. "Your very own reality show!"

"What are you talking about?" Asked Patty.

"Let's go inside and talk it over. Billy, Jerry, Todd?" Three other men got out of the black car. He gave an oily smile. "Come on now, don't be shy!"


	2. Chapter 2

2:

* * *

Mr. and Mrs. Smith sat on the couch. Lyle sat in the armchair across from them, his companions standing behind him. Patty came out from the kitchen, holding two mugs in each hand. "Here's the coffee you asked for. We only have instant."

Lyle took one of the cups. "Fabulous."

Patty sat down next to her mother and patted her knees. "Here Mittel. Come here." A grey and white schnauzer jumped up into her lap. "Good boy."

"Why do you want us for your show?" Asked Mrs. Smith.

"Henry, Zelda, Baby! You're just the type of family we've been looking for!" Said Lyle slickly. "Average Americans with an unusual disability: Dwarfism!"

Patty moved closer to her mother. "You wanna make something of it?"

"No, not at all! Well," Lyle corrected himself. "Yes! We want to make a TV show based on your lives! Show the world who you really are!"

Mrs. Smith looked at her husband. "I don't know…"

"Think about it, Mrs. Smith! You and your family could change the way the world looks at 'Little People!' Show them that even though you're different, you're just like any other family!"

Mrs. Smith brightened. "Well, if it helps other people like us…"

"And," said Lyle, taking out a pen and notebook. "We're prepared to offer you a lucrative sum for your cooperation."

"Really? How much?" Asked Patty's father. Lyle scribbled down a number and held up the paper.

Mrs. Smith collapsed against her husband. "Oh my!"

"That's per show by the way."

"Oh my!" Mrs. Smith said again. Mr. Smith put his arm around her.

"We'll have to talk about this as a family, mind you…"

"Of course, of course!" Said Lyle. "My number's on the card! Take as much time as you need!" Then quickly under his breath he said, "You have until next Saturday." He snapped his fingers. "Come on, Billy, Jerry, Todd. We have an episode of 'Baby, Baby, Baby, Baby, Baby, Baby' to film!"

As soon as the front door closed, Mrs. Smith cried, "Henry! Do you know what this means? We can pay off all our bills!"

Mr. Smith stared wide eyed at the number on the paper. "We could even buy a house!"

Patty let Mittel jump off her lap. "We'd have to move?"

"Well, not right away, Dear." Said Mrs. Smith. "We'd wait until summer when you've finished school."

"But I like living here. We've always lived in this house."

"But Patty, think of the possibilities!" Said Mrs. Smith. "Your Dad won't have to worry about his job at the factory! I could quit the DMV! We could get the phone and cable back!"

Mr. Smith leaned back against the sofa cushions. "Heck, we could even get a satellite dish!"

"We can send you to college, Patty! Without student loans!"

"I don't need to go to college," Patty shrugged. "Really. I could just get a job and live at home so I can take care of you two."

"That's sweet, Patty, but no. You'll go to college and do things right!" Mrs. Smith put a hand on her husband's. "I always wanted to go to college, Henry."

"Me too. But now Patty can go and have the life we never had!" They looked at their daughter. "What do you say, Pumpkin Head? Do you like the idea?"

"Because if you're not comfortable, we won't do it. But," Mrs. Smith leaned toward her. "It would really help us a lot!"

Patty was quiet for a moment. Her parents had always struggled with making ends meet. And she hated to see them worry over money. Even as a little girl, at night she could see her parents through the bedroom door, sitting at the old rickety kitchen table in their booster seats, trying to pay enough bills so that the family could survive…

"Patty?" Mr. Smith interrupted her memories. "Patty, what do you say?"

Patty shrugged again. "I guess its ok…"

Both her parents cheered and hugged each other. Patty frowned and stared out the window. "I still don't like that Lyle guy…"


	3. Chapter 3

3:

* * *

It was dark and cloudy as Mittel tugged at his leash. Behind him, Patty followed. "Come on, Mittel. Go." She said. Harold was beside her.

"So you're going to have your own TV show?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's no big deal," said Patty. "It's just a lot of money for my folks."

"No big deal?" Harold cried. "Of course it's a big deal! You're going to be a big time TV star!"

"I doubt it."

"But lots of people will see you every week!"

"Yeah, probably. Mittel, stop sniffing and just go. Before it rains."

Harold had jumped on a lamp post and was now spinning around it like a merry-go-round. "Hey Patty?"

"What?"

"You think when you're a big star, you'll remember me?"

Patty stopped. "What's that supposed to mean?" Mittel paused in front of a trashcan. "Finally."

"Well, you'll be so busy signing autographs and riding in limos and sticking body parts in cement that we probably won't get to hang out as much. So," he hopped down. "I just want you to remember me is all. And I'll watch you every week! I promise!"

"Harold," said Patty. "Don't be stupid. Of course we'll still hang out together. We'll always be friends."

Harold smiled. "You-You mean it?"

"Of course I mean it. And I don't get what's so great about limos anyway. They're just a long car."

"Yeah," said Harold. "I'd rather ride a motorcycle anyway!" He acted as if he were holding onto handlebars. "Broom! Broom!"

Patty smiled. "Yeah, motorcycles are cool."

"Or a Jeep! Or an airplane! Or a killer whale!" Harold laughed. "That'd be awesome!"

Mittel was done with his business. Patty reached into her pocket and pulled out a plastic bag. As she scooped up the turd with it, thunder rumbled. As Patty looked up, a great big raindrop fell into her eye. More began to pour quickly.

"Great." She turned the bag inside out and threw into the trash. "Well, we better get out of here, Harold, before it floods. Harold?"

Harold was in the street, jumping up and down in a puddle. "Look Patty! I'm making the world's biggest splash!"

"Harold, what if you get pneumonia?"

Harold didn't stop. "My Mom's got plenty of that under the kitchen cabinet already. It smells bad."

"Not _ammonia_, Harold. It's…Oh never mind." She smiled as she watched him play.

"Hey Patty! Come down here and splash with me!"

"I don't think so."

"Aw, come on!" He cried. "It's fun!"

Patty rolled her eyes with a smile. "Oh what the heck. My socks are already soaked." She ran to join him with Mittel at her side.

* * *

As Harold and Patty ran toward the Smith house, Patty said, "Do you need a ride home Harold? My dad can drive you."

"Nah, it's ok," Harold said. "I can walk from here."

At the door, Patty fiddled with Mittel's leash. "Well, I had fun today, Harold."

"Yeah, me too. It's nice. I mean, hanging out with you is always nice." Patty noticed his cheeks were turning red and she was sure she could feel heat on hers too.

"Well, bye Harold."

"Yeah, bye Patty."

As Patty closed the door, she unhooked Mittel's leash. _I sure like Harold,_ she thought. _He's nice and he always makes me laugh. I wonder if he…_

"THERE you are!" Said a voice, interrupting her thoughts. Lyle walked out of the living room into the front hall. "Filming starts in ten minutes and why are you wet?"

"It's raining."

"Stupid rain. Why can't it be more convenient? Doesn't it know we're on a tight schedule?"

Patty stood up. "Do you even hear yourself talk?"

Lyle snapped his fingers and a redhead in a headset brought him a clipboard. "Ok, clothes and makeup should take about seven minutes. We might have to push back our filming on 'Nanny Emergency' though. Beatrice!" He snapped his fingers again and this time a young woman with short neon blue hair appeared, snapping bubble gum loudly. "Take her to wardrobe and makeup and step on it!" Beatrice grabbed Patty by the arm and raced her toward the basement.

As they descended into the dirty cellar, Patty said, "What have you done to our basement?" There were bright lights everywhere. Ten racks of clothing were shoved into a corner and a vanity with a spinning chair was placed along the far wall. "Where are all the boxes? Where's our Christmas stuff?"

Lyle came down the stairs behind her. "Had to make room for the important stuff! Moved all the holiday garbage to storage."

Patty glared at him. "It's _not_ garbage."

"Don't worry. During our Christmas episode, we'll get you all new things."

"But I like our old things." Patty felt something under her shoe. It was a drawing she'd done in kindergarten of herself and her parents. Mrs. Smith had glued it to a paper snowflake and written the name and date on the back.

"This must've fallen out of the box," Patty said as she picked it up. As she stuffed it in her pocket, Beatrice again grabbed her. This time she was placed in the spinning chair.

"Dry her off!" Lyle instructed as he stood behind Beatrice. "Yes, get that peacock blue shirt…wait! No, no! The ruby red one! And the jeans! Good! Put it on her!"

Patty slapped away Beatrice's hand away from her shirt. "Don't take that off!"

"Oh please, Kid! We're on a schedule and you're soaked! Cooperate!" Lyle turned so he couldn't see Patty changing. "Good? Ok?"

Patty tugged at the fabric uncomfortably. "It's a little tight…"

"It'll have to do!" Said Lyle sharply. "Now, lipstick! Make sure it matches the shirt! Gwyneth, do her nails the same color! And for heaven's sake, someone do _something_ with her hair!"

A few yanks and pulls later and Patty was turned toward the mirror. Her hair was curled and pulled into a ponytail. Her face was so heavily made up that she looked twenty-one, not thirteen.

"I don't think my Mom's going to like this," said Patty. "And I don't like this shirt. It's too small, and I don't like how low the top is. Besides, spaghetti straps make my shoulders look like a man's."

Lyle was flipping through his clipboard. "Now Patty, we're going to have to make some changes."

"Changes?"

"Just little ones," said Lyle. "Itty bitty changes. First up, your name."

"What's wrong with my name?"

"We did a viewer poll, and it seems that a majority of people don't like the name," He made finger quotes. "'Patty.' It reminds them of hamburgers, patty-cake patty-cake, and for some reason, mayonnaise."

"Big deal." Patty pushed away Beatrice, who was trying to powder her face. "Patty is my name."

Lyle rubbed between his eyebrows. "Look, your real name is Patricia, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So, we'll call you Tricia! It's still technically your name, just the ending part, not the beginning."

"But my name's _Patty_."

"Great! Good! See you upstairs in three minutes, Tricia! In the living room!"

"But my name's Patty!" She repeated as he ran up the stairs.

* * *

Mr. and Mrs. Smith sat together on the couch. Patty was behind the camera on a folding chair while the director, Billy, spoke. He had round eyeglasses and white hair that was long on one side and short on the other.

"Scoot a little closer. That's good. Put your hand on hers. There you go. Now," he stood up straight. "Just ignore the cameras. Pretend I'm an old friend. I'll ask you the questions, and then we'll edit me out later and just film your answers. Here we go. Action." Billy sat down out of the camera shot. "Now, Henry, Zelda. How did you meet?"

"At my work." Mrs. Smith smiled. "I work at the DMV and one day, he came into renew his license. He was so kind and polite. So many people that come into the DMV are so angry and impatient, but he was always saying 'please' and 'thank you.' And he loved Elvis, just like me." She patted his hand. "I knew right away he was the 'one,' but we stayed just friends for eight months before he asked me out on our first official date. To see fireworks on the Fourth of July."

Patty smiled. Her mother had often told her this story while sitting on her comforter before bedtime, but she still liked to hear it.

Lyle cleared his throat. He stepped up to Billy, cleared his throat, and whispered something in his ear. Billy turned to the camerawoman. "Stop for a moment, Daisy. Henry, Zelda, that story's…cute, but it lacks something. Dramatic oomph."

"Oomph?" Repeated Mrs. Smith.

"Yes." Billy put his index fingers to his lips in thought, then said, "I've got it. You two met at a Little People's convention."

Mrs. Smith looked confused. "But I've never been to a Little People's convention!"

"Neither have I." Said Mr. Smith.

"And let's say he asked you out right away, but you said no. But you finally agreed on Christmas Eve under the mistletoe. Now that's a story!"

"But it's not 'our' story!" Protested Mrs. Smith.

"Zelda, Henry, our viewers want something a little more romantic than that you two met at her work. And a determined man, never giving up on the woman of his dreams, is far more interesting."

"But I was too shy!"

"And Christmas Eve! Well, everyone loves Christmas! Besides it'll appeal more to our overseas viewers. Now, let's start again. Action." Mrs. and Mr. Smith didn't respond. They looked shocked. "Henry? Zelda?"

"Oh! Um," Mrs. Smith started. "It was Christmas. No, Christmas Eve. No, wait…"

Patty felt anger boiling inside her. How dare they change her parent's story! It almost made her want to belt the director, but she forced herself to stay in her chair. "So, how many times did Henry propose?"

"Just once. I said yes right away."

"Hmm. Let's say he asked you three times, and that the third time's the charm."

"Well…if you think so…"

Patty stood up. "Please excuse me." She said as politely as she could manage.

"Don't mess up your makeup!" Called Lyle. "We'll be interviewing you next!"


	4. Chapter 4

4:

* * *

As Patty sat on the couch, Beatrice started powdering her face again. "Please don't do that. It makes me sneeze."

Billy was in the director's chair. "Now Tricia, I know you're a little nervous…"

"Not really and my name's Patty."

"But," he went on as if he hadn't heard her. "That's completely normal! Just tell us about yourself! And action!" Patty didn't say anything. "Tricia?"

"What am I supposed to say?"

"Why don't you tell us about your life on the cheerleading squad?"

"I'm not on the cheerleading squad. I'm in sixth grade. We don't even have a cheerleading squad at PS 118."

"Well, for now on, you're a cheerleader. And you really want to be captain! So you've been practicing extra hard this year! Destiny!" Someone off camera handed her a set of pompoms. "Go on, Tricia! Do a cheer for us!"

"Um," Patty shook the pompoms weakly. "Rah?"

Billy sighed and hung his head. "Somebody get me a Double Couverture Mocha Java Ice Coffee."

"Uh, Sir?" Said the red haired woman in the headset. "I believe it's Java Mocha…"

"JUST GET ME THE DARN COFFEE!"

Patty slumped. It was going to be a long day…

* * *

Billy stood behind the camera with the camerawoman, looking at the tiny screen. "Get closer. No, not that close. Closer now. A little closer…Perfect!" He rushed back to the director's chair. "Action!" He leaned forward. "So tell us, Tricia. Is there anyone _special_ in your life?"

"Well, sure. My parents. And my grandma. Whenever I go to her house, we eat mince pie with vanilla ice cream while we watch old movies. My favorite is 'Singin' in the Rain…'"

"No, no, no!" Billy interrupted. "I meant a boy! Do you have a boyfriend?"

Patty turned bright red. "I don't feel comfortable answering that."

"Come on, Tricia! There must be someone!"

Patty smiled and fiddled with her fingers. "Well, there is a guy I hang out with. His name's Harold and he's nice and sweet…" She blushed again. "But we're just friends, that's all."

Billy smiled. "Now _that's_ more like it."

* * *

After a long day of shooting, the Smiths settled down to a dinner of cheeseburgers, milkshakes, and fries. "Just think, Patty! We never were able to afford fast food before, and now we're eating the best burgers in town!"

"I like your burgers, Mom." Said Patty. "You put that Worcestershire sauce on them."

"Oh Patty, you're sweet."

Patty took slurped her strawberry milkshake through her straw for a moment, then pushed it aside. "Mom, Dad, can I talk to you?"

"Of course, Dear!"

"Anytime you want, Sugar Nose!"

Patty sighed. "I don't like this TV crew."

"Oh Patty…"

"I don't like the way they make me dress and I don't like the way they change stuff. I mean, I always thought the story of how you met Dad was sweet, but they went and made the whole thing different."

"Patty," her mother patted her hand. "I know it's new, and I know it's…odd, but I'm sure you'll get used to it!"

"Maybe…"

"Just keep thinking! You're doing for the good of the family!"

"Yeah, that's what I keep telling myself." Muttered Mr. Smith.

"Henry!" Mr. Smith quickly shoved a French fry in his mouth. Patty scooted her chair out.

"Mom, Dad, may I please be excused?"

"Yes, Dear." As Patty left the kitchen, her mother called out, "Make sure you brush your teeth! And please change the bucket under the leak! The repair man isn't coming until Wednesday!" Mrs. Smith sighed and took her husband's hand. "Are we doing the right thing, Henry? Really?"

* * *

After brushing her teeth and replacing the bucket where the roof was cracked, Patty trudged to her room. Turning on the light, she saw the small wooden mirror hanging above the dresser. It was smudged and cracked where it had fallen from an old bent nail, but she liked it anyway. She had taped pictures of her parents and grandma to the frame and there was a schnauzer sticker on the corner of the glass.

Patty looked at her reflection for a long minute and then picked up a tissue. She rubbed all the makeup off her face. Next, she took out the pony tie and brushed her brown hair until it was straight and smooth again.

After changing into a yellow nightshirt and gray sweats, Patty sighed long and deep and fell face first into the mattress. _For the family,_ she thought. _For the family…_


	5. Chapter 5

5:

* * *

_In her light party blue dress, Patty stood on the red carpet. Crowds of kids, all from her school, surrounded her, cheering and yelling. Flashbulbs went off in her eyes, blinding her._

"_Go Patty!"_

"_We always loved you Patty!"_

"_You're our hero!"_

_Turning away from the cameras, Patty saw the theater behind her. Across the top of it was a banner with the words, _"BIG PATTY: SUPERSTAR!"

"_Patty!" Screamed a familiar voice._

_Patty turned back. "Harold? Harold, is that you?" Pushing her way past the crowd, she found him in the back. He was dressed in shabby clothes and had a five o'clock shadow. Dirt was smeared on his face. "Harold? What happened to you?"_

"_Here!" He handed her a yellow package. "It's a Lunchable! Please don't forget me, Patty!"_

"_Oh Harold…"_

_Suddenly someone yelled, "Tricia!" Patty turned. Lyle was in her face and so was the camera. "Tricia! Wake up!"_

* * *

Patty gasped as her eyes opened. Lyle was standing above her and so was the camerawoman, holding the machine on her shoulder. "Ah, good! You're awake!"

"What do you think you're doing?" Patty demanded. "Get out!" Like a frightened child, she pulled the blanket up to her chin.

"Now now, Tricia! It's nearly five AM! If we want to get the entire shoot done, we need to start early!"

"Go away!"

"We're going to the park today and getting some shots of you playing with the dog! Beatrice, make sure she's dressed by the time I'm back!" Beatrice blew a bubble and held up a purple tube top and black leather miniskirt. "And don't forget the heels like you did yesterday! We want her feet to look sexy!"

* * *

Today was bright and sunny. A light cool breeze blew on the back of Patty's bare shoulders. Her hair was again ponytailed and curled and her lipstick was a dark purple.

As she sat in a folding chair and held Mittel on her lap, she watched the crew run paintbrushes over the grass. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" Said Lyle miffed, as if it were obvious. "We're painting the grass green."

"But it was already green."

"Well it wasn't green enough! We want it to look _natural_!"

Patty looked at him. "Are you stoned?" The crewmembers began to blow dry the paint.

"Good, we're almost done." He turned to look at her. "Wait a minute, what's _that_?"

"What?"

"That dog! Why did you bring that dog?"

Patty pulled Mittel close protectively. "You said you wanted to film me playing with the dog."

"Yes, but not _that_ dog!" Lyle snapped his fingers. A crewmember appeared and picked up Mittel.

"Hey!"

"Now Tricia, Baby! Be reasonable! We did a viewer poll and it turns out that people don't really like mutts!"

"He's not mutt, he's a schnauzer."

"Oh. Well it's too late." Lyle snapped his fingers and yet another crewmember appeared with a pet carrier. "Anyway," He opened up the door and reached in. "What the people really like are Chihuahuas! Makes them think of tacos and people _love_ thinking about tacos!" He pulled out a squirming little brown dog with bulging eyes and huge ears. It yapped at Patty.

"You can't take away my dog!"

"Take away? Who said anything about taking anything away? You'll still have your Scottie!"

"Schnauzer."

"Whatever. You'll still keep it, but we just won't film it! Instead, we'll say _this _is your dog!" He shoved the Chihuahua into Patty's arms. It growled and barked.

"You want me to pretend this is Mittel?"

"And that's another thing. We did a viewer poll and people don't care for the name 'Mittel.' This little guy is named Gonzalez! Cute huh?" He clapped his hands. "Ok, grass is dry, mutt is gone! Let's start filming!"

* * *

The park shoot was long, exhausting, and painful. Patty tripped over her heels three times. Billy the Director kept wanting to change things.

As Patty threw the Frisbee for what seemed like the millionth time, Billy yelled, "Cut!"

"What now?"

"The Frisbee is _red_!"

"So what?"

"It clashes with your shirt!" Patty looked down at the tube top.

"This is the shirt you guys made me wear. And this is the Frisbee you handed me." She said.

Billy wasn't listening. "Destiny!" A blonde girl appeared. "You are my prop master! And yet you gave me a _red_ Frisbee!"

"I didn't know that she was going to be wearing purple!"

Billy sighed and threw his head back dramatically. "I'm surrounded by incompetents!" He cried. "You will have to go and buy another Frisbee!"

"I could just change my shirt."

Patty's remark fell on deaf ears. "Make it…silver! Find a silver Frisbee!"

"Where?"

"ANYWHERE!" Billy shouted, standing up. "Search every toy store and sporting goods place in this lousy city! Just bring me a silver Frisbee! My artistic integrity is at stake!"

"All right, all right!" As the prop master turned she muttered, "What a moron."

* * *

Filming was stalled for five hours while the prop girl was gone. During that time, Patty took off her shoes, which were giving her blisters, and played with Mittel and the red Frisbee. She ate a bacon cheeseburger, a Yahoo soda, and sliced kiwi for lunch. She lay on the grass and stared at the clouds. She listened to Billy scream into his cell phone, "No! It can't be a _gray _Frisbee!"

There were laughter and giggles. Patty sat up. A group of kids from her school were in front of the camera, sticking their faces into the lens.

"Hi Mom!"

"Hello world! I'm Rhonda Wellington Lloyd and I'm fabulous!"

Patty stood. "Guys? What are you doing?"

The kids turned. "Wilkers!" Cried Stinky. "Big Patty, is that you?"

Patty burned bright red and tried to pull the tube top further up her chest. "Where's Harold?"

"He's at something called a _Brit Milah_." Said Sid.

Inwardly, Patty sighed. _At least he won't have to see me like this…yet…_

Lyle was trying to shoo away the kids. "Get away! That's expensive equipment! Scram!"

Eugene was by one of the boom operators, staring at him gleefully. "Do you know any choreographers?"

"Sure kid."

Eugene squealed excitedly. "I want to be a choreographer when I grow up! Watch me!" He snapped his fingers. "A five six seven eight!" He began to tap dance as he sang, _"'Moses supposes his toeses are roses but Moses supposes erroneously! And Moses, he knowses his toeses aren't roses! As Moses supposes his toeses…'"_ The boom mike suddenly fell, clonking him on the head. "Ow. I'm ok."

Arnold sidled up to Patty. "Patty, I know it's none of my business," he said quietly enough so the others wouldn't hear him. "But don't you think those clothes are too grownup for you?"

"I don't like them," Patty admitted. "But the producer's making me wear them for our TV show…"

"_TV SHOW?"_ Everyone suddenly chorused. They mobbed the startled Patty and began bombarding her with questions.

"Can I have an autograph?"

"Can I be in it?"

"Why do _you_ get a TV show?"

"Does anyone have any ice for my head?"

"ENOUGH!" Lyle shouted. Everyone looked at him meekly. "This is a serious production and you kids are wasting our time and money!"

"But we've spent five hours waiting for a silver Frisbee." Patty pointed out.

"You kids have to leave now! Go on!"

As the crowd of children left, they turned and waved. "Bye Patty!" Patty just sighed and tried to pull the tube top up farther.


	6. Chapter 6

6:

* * *

In the Smith's living room, Harold and Patty sat on the sofa, watching the TV. "They eventually just spray-painted the Frisbee silver," said Patty as the show began.

Her parent's voices could be heard: _"We're Henry…"_

"_And Zelda Smith! We live with our daughter, Tricia…"_

There was a clip of Patty throwing the Frisbee, then it cut to Mr. and Mrs. Smith preparing lunch.

"What? That's it?" Patty looked angry. "I spent seven hours in the park for a three second shot? You must be kidding!"

Harold's stomach growled. "Patty, do you have anything to eat? I'm hungry!"

"You're always hungry, Harold." Patty said, but she got off the couch and went to the kitchen anyway.

While she prepared a plate of sliced apples and peanut butter, she thought to herself, _All that fuss over a silver Frisbee just for that? I still have blisters on my feet from those dumb shoes. _She took two Yahoo Sodas from the fridge. She placed them and the plate on a tray and carried it to the living room. _Oh well. I guess it couldn't get any worse._

In the living room, she set the tray on the coffee table and she and Harold began to eat. The interviews were on next. _"Well,"_ said the TV Patty. _"There is a guy I hang out with. His name's Harold and he's nice and sweet…"_

Patty turned a deep shade of crimson as an apple slice fell out of her mouth back onto the plate.

"Sweet?" Repeated Harold. "I'm not sweet!"

"Harold," said Patty and she shrugged. "You're kind of sweet…sometimes." She looked uncomfortable.

"Nuh uh!" Cried Harold. "I'm a boy! A big, stinky, smelly boy!"

"Would you like it better if I said you were loud and obnoxious?"

Harold crossed his arms and scrunched down on the sofa. "Why not? It's the truth anyway." He muttered.

"Harold, you're not loud and obnoxious." He looked at her skeptically. "Ok, yes you are, but," she turned toward him. "I don't mind. Really. Besides, there's more to you than just that."

Harold straightened up. "You really think so?"

"Uh huh." They stared at each other a moment.

"You wanna watch wrestling?" Patty asked suddenly.

"What about your show?"

"Please. I already lived it. I don't need to see it again."

"All right!" Harold cried. He grabbed the remote and switched the channel. "It's rumblin' time!"

* * *

Lyle J. Lyleson was watching the première of the Smith's new show on a ninety inch flat screen TV. He and the other producers, along with Billy the Director, were in a large room surrounded by trays of fancy food.

"It's good, it's good…" said Lyle. "But it needs something…It's lacking dramatic oomph."

Billy was stuffing his face with _pâté de __foie gras_ on crackers. "Oomff?"

"_There is a guy I hang out with. His name's Harold and he's nice and sweet…"_

"Hmm. Do we have anything on this Harold?"

One of the producers, a man with short black hair, handed Lyle a packet. "Dug up some background info already."

"Good work, Jerry."

"He's in the fourth grade at PS 118. Been held back a few times. Lives with his Mom and Dad. Goes to the temple on Bartlett Street."

Lyle flipped through the papers. "Mmm hmm. Mmm hmm. We should have him on the show…Oh no!"

"What?"

"Look at his school photo!" Lyle held up the picture. In it, Harold was making a face; he had his fingers in his mouth and was stretching his cheeks while sticking out his tongue. "Does this say 'love interest' to you?"

"Love interest?" Said Jerry. "Aren't they a little young?"

"No one couple is too young to be shipped. We'll just have to do a little pushing that's all…"


	7. Chapter 7

7:

* * *

It was the next day in the Berman dining room and Harold was surrounded by a dozen plates of food. He crammed a fork full of beef pot pie in his mouth with his right hand and shoved a Quesada in after it with his left. Lyle sat across from him, trying to conceal his disgust as food flecks fell out of the big boy's mouth.

"So you're saying that if I appear on the show, you'll give me all the food I want?"

Lyle forced a smile. "That's right! Any kind of food you want! Crates of cookies, trucks of tacos, ships of spare ribs…" He pushed a Boston cream pie toward Harold, who gleefully stuck his fork in and pulled out an entire slice.

"Oh boy! PIE!"

"So, we have an understanding?"

"Yeah, and pie!"

"Good." Lyle smiled slyly as Harold continued to wolf food. "I'm so glad. You know Harold, Tricia likes you."

"Who?"

Lyle sighed. "Patty. She really likes you."

Harold's only response was to slurp some spaghetti noodles.

"I mean," Lyle continued. "She _really _likes you."

Harold finally swallowed. "Yeah, and I really like Patty. We're friends."

"Not just as friends, Harold!" Said Lyle as he pulled out a caramel apple, took off the wrapper, and handed it to him. Greedily, Harold grasped the treat in his meaty hand and took a bite. "Then again, I probably shouldn't tell you…"

For the first time, Harold stopped eating. He lowered the apple. "Tell me what?"

"No, no. It's not really my place…"

"TELL ME!" Harold demanded loudly, pounding his fist on the table. The plates jumped.

"_Welllll…"_ Lyle shrugged his shoulder as if resigned. "I heard Tric…I mean, Patty tell her mother that…" He stopped to study Harold's reaction. The boy was sitting straight, listening intently as he chewed. "That she wants you to _kiss_ her!"

Harold spit out a piece of apple. "Oh that's totally gross! I'm not going to kiss Patty's mother!"

"Not her mother!" Lyle shouted angrily, then checked himself. "I meant Patty! _Patty_ wants to be kissed by _you_!"

Harold's jaw went slack. _"Huhhhh?"_

Lyle smiled shrewdly. "That's right Harold. Next time you see Patty, I want you to plant a big wet one on her!"

"I dunno…" Harold looked to the side, uncomfortable. "I haven't even held her hand yet. 'Cept for arm wrestling and that's…"

"Trust me Harold!" Lyle stood up and leaned across the table. "Patty wants to be kissed! Don't let her down…" He winked. _"Romeo!"_

"Tybalt." Harold corrected. "Arnold was Romeo, I was Tybalt…"

"JUST KISS HER!" Lyle shouted, causing Harold to shrink back.

"Ok, Mr. TV Guy, I'll try."

"Good." Lyle took out a handkerchief from his lavender jacket and wiped sweat off his shiny hairless head. "I need a drink."

Harold picked up a bottle from the table. "You want a Yahoo?" Lyle just groaned.

* * *

It was the next day at the Smith home. The doorbell rang. As Patty went to answer it, Billy the Director was behind her with the camerawoman. "Good," he whispered. "Now, when you see him, pretend to be surprised!"

"Whatever," sighed Patty. Harold was on the stoop, wearing his normal clothes, except he had a bow tie. It was straining around his thick neck. In his hand was a bouquet of blue and pink petunias.

"Hello Tricia, I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by." Harold monotoned slowly as if he were reading from a book. "I brought these flowers for you."

Billy grimaced. "He is _awful!"_He hissed to the camerawoman.

Patty, though, was smiling as she took the bouquet. "Petunias? These are my favorite."

Harold's face lit up. "Really?" He said in his normal voice, sounding happy. "'Cause I just picked them because I thought they looked nice!"

Patty cradled the bouquet. "When I was little, my Dad used to call me 'Pretty Patty Petunia.'"

"AHEM!" She and Harold looked at Billy, who looked aggravated. Patty suddenly realized that they had gone off script.

"Sorry. Do you want us to start over?"

Billy just shook his head. "No, never mind. Let's take a break, and then try again."

"A break?" Repeated Patty. "But he just got here!" Billy ignored her as he went to the kitchen, crew behind him.

Patty led Harold to the couch. "I was surprised when they said they wanted you on the show."

"Yeah," Harold put a hand on his flabby stomach. "Is it true that the camera adds ten pounds? 'Cause then I might not fit on the TV!"

"You'll look fine Harold," said Patty. "If either of us is in trouble it's me. I already look huge in these clothes." She was wearing a green baby-doll tee that showed her bellybutton and a tight white denim skirt. "Imagine how bad I'll look on screen."

"I don't think you look bad!" Said Harold. "I think you look good in anything!"

Patty smiled shyly. "That just might be one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me…"

* * *

The camera slowly appeared around the doorway. Billy was in the kitchen, watching Harold and Patty on a small screen. "Perfect! Perfect!" He cheered. "C'mon, Boy! Go for the kiss!"

* * *

In the living room, Harold began to blush and fidget. Patty raised her eyebrows in concern. "Harold, are you ok? You're awfully red."

"I…uh…well…" Harold gulped audibly and puckered his lips. He leaned toward Patty…

Who quickly bent away in surprise. "Harold, what are you doing?" Patty demanded, as he continued to try and get close. She was perched on the edge of the couch cushion. Suddenly, Harold's bowtie snapped and struck Patty in the eye. Shocked, she jumped back even further and slipped. She landed on the carpet, her hand grabbing Harold's shirt and pulling him down with her.

The two teens were sprawled on the floor in front of the couch, Harold on top. "Ouch."

Harold jumped up. "Uh, uh, uh…" he stuttered, then wailed. _"I WANT MY MOMMMMYYY!"_

As he bolted for the door, Patty was right behind him. She stopped on the stoop as she watched him tear down the street, bawling like a banshee. "Oh Harold…"

* * *

In the Smith kitchen, Billy was tearing the long side of his hair. "OOOOH!" He hollered. "THAT STUPID, OBNOXIOUS LITTLE…"

Lyle stood behind him. He patted Billy on the shoulder. "Billy, Billy! I'm surprised at you! Have you learned nothing from show business?"

Billy's face went down on the table with a loud _Whump!_

Lyle smiled craftily. "We're just going to have to take a different approach. Todd, your nephew still does modeling right?"


	8. Chapter 8

8:

* * *

Patty's mind was still on Harold as she was powdered and retouched. _Why would Harold do that? It's not like him to try and…_

Someone stood in front of her. Patty looked up. "Who are you?"

The boy she saw was tall with scruffy brown hair and a smile bright enough shame a light bulb. Lyle was behind him. "Tricia, this is Todd's nephew, Matlock."

"Matlock?"

"Since Harold's…indisposed, Matlock is going to be playing him."

Patty stood up. "What? No! No I won't do this!"

"Tricia…" Patty crossed her arms and turned away. "Now Trishy…"

"My name is Patty!"

"Fine, Patty!" Lyle circled around to her front. He smiled gently, but to Patty it was still as oily and smarmy as ever. "Patty, please try to understand! We're just trying to make due since your friend skipped out on us!"

"This is supposed be to a reality show, but you've got scripts and you change everything, and now you're asking me to outright lie by pretending this stranger is Harold!" Patty protested. "When exactly does the 'reality' part come into play?"

"Oh, Patty!" Lyle laughed and patted her head. "I remember when I first started in reality TV! I was just as naïve as you are! _All_ reality shows are like this! _All_ reality shows use little cheats here and there when needed!"

"Exactly! Cheats! It's cheating!"

"It's an accepted industry standard!" He argued back. "Everybody does it!"

"And if everybody jumped off a bridge, I suppose you'd do that too."

Lyle got a strange look in his eye. "Jump off a bridge, you say…"

Billy called down the basement steps. "Time is money, people! Lyle, we need to start filming!"

Lyle shook off whatever strange thoughts he was having. "Well Patty, I guess I can't force you to do anything. It's too bad though. Your folks are so cooperative, and yet you just seem to want to argue with everything. You aren't adopted are you?"

Patty sighed. "No. Believe it or not, I actually get asked that a lot."

"Think of your parents, Patty! Think of how much this show means to them! Think of the all the money! This show means no more leaky roofs! No more bills! No more problems! You don't want to go back to being _poor_, do you?"

Patty slumped back into the chair. On the one hand, she was smart enough to see Lyle was manipulating her, or trying to anyway. Sleaze. But she remained silent, because deep inside, she knew that as scummy as Lyle was, he had a point. "You're a real slime bag, you know that, Lyle?"

He shrugged almost apologetically. "It's the only way to get ahead in my business, Kid. I don't want to be poor either." For the first time, Patty knew he was being sincere.

"Ok, fine." She muttered begrudgingly. "I'll do it."

"Wonderful! Tricia's back on board!"

_And I'm back to Tricia, _Patty thought sullenly. Matlock was sitting in another chair, having his face powdered. He smiled his million dollar smile at her and Patty couldn't help but smile back. _At least he's cute. No Gene Kelly though…_

"Places people!"

Patty stood. _I'll go along with it just this once, _she told herself as she walked to the stairs._ I hope Harold doesn't get too upset about this._

As she disappeared up to the next floor, Lyle pulled a tape recorder out from his jacket and held it to his mouth. "Memo to self for next big show: People bungee jumping off bridges for money! We'll call it 'Bobbing for Bucks!'" He clicked off the recorder. "I'm so brilliant it's scary!"

* * *

Patty smoothed her skirt as best she could and crossed her ankles as she sat down on the couch next to Matlock. "You're not nervous are you?" He asked.

"Nah. Are you?"

"Well, I've only done magazine modeling so this is my first time on TV. But I think as long as I follow what Lyle and Uncle Todd told me, I should be all right."

Billy was in his chair. "Action."

Patty cleared her throat and began to recite the lines she had been given. "I'm glad you came over, Harold. You know you mean the world to me." Suddenly, Matlock clasped her hand. "Wait, what are you…"

Matlock put a finger to her lips. _"Shhh…"_

"Pardon me?"

"Don't speak, Tricia. Don't spoil the moment."

"Moment? What are you…MPHMF!" Matlock had grabbed her by the shoulders and pressed his lips to hers.

"Perfect!" Whispered Billy.

Patty pushed the older teen away and threw a hard sucker punch, knocking Matlock off the sofa and to the floor.

"Tricia! Have you gone crazy?"

She had never felt such rage in her life. She was about to give this Matlock a sound thrashing when he covered his face in terror. "What are you doing?" He cried. "Uncle Todd, help!"

"What are_ you _doing?" Patty snapped back. "I don't even know you and you just plant a smooch on me! Who do you think you are?"

"But he said to!"

Patty stopped. "Who said?"

"Lyle did! Lyle said they wanted to capture your first kiss on camera! They didn't tell you?"

Patty looked at Lyle, Billy, and the others. Lyle smiled sheepishly. "We, uh, wanted to capture your surprise."

She reached down. Matlock covered his face again but this time, Patty simply helped him up. She rubbed the lipstick off her mouth.

"I quit."


	9. Chapter 9

9:

* * *

It was nearly twelve thirty but Patty lay awake with eyes glued to her bedroom ceiling. Mittel was sleeping at the foot of her bed. In her hand, Patty clutched the snowflake ornament that she had retrieved from the basement floor back at the beginning of this whole mess.

_Can I really quit? _She thought. _What will happen if I do? Will they take away all the money? Will they sue us? What about Mom and Dad?_

She looked down at the snowflake. In the darkness she could make out the three crayon figures scrawled onto the paper. They had been so happy back then, all of them. Even without money, things had never seemed as bleak as they did now. _How did things get so complicated?_

Soon, she knew, that episode would air. The whole world would see her kissing a strange boy that she called Harold. But all her friends would know. Not only was that boy not Harold, but she had been willing to pretend he was. They would know that she had betrayed the real Harold Berman. The one who, despite his oafishness and immaturity, had stood up for her and once brazenly screamed that he would beat up anyone who had a problem with their friendship.

_How did things get so complicated? _She thought again._ I wish I could go back to when they weren't. Back to when I was Pretty Patty Petunia and not Tricia._

* * *

Harold avoided her at school the next day. Patty knew he was embarrassed and frankly, she was too. But, she reasoned, if he saw her kissing another boy on TV in a few weeks, things would probably never go back to normal.

Finally, she cornered him after school as he was walking down the front steps of PS 118. "We need to talk." She said, blocking his path. He tried to sidestep around her but she wouldn't let him. "We need to talk about what happened."

"Aw, jeez Patty! Do we hafta?" He finally made it around her and down the steps. "You know, I feel stupid enough as it is…"

"Harold, I know they set you up."

"You do?" He turned in surprise. She nodded. "They told you?"

"Not exactly. But they did the same thing to another boy."

Harold narrowed his eyes. "Another boy? You mean, they got another guy to come in and try to…" He suddenly flushed red. "You know…"

"Well…" Now it was Patty's turn to be red. "He didn't have to _try _exactly…"

Harold looked blank. "What do you mean?"

Patty turned even redder. Harold's jaw dropped. "You mean…" He clutched his head. "I don't believe this! I just don't believe this!" He hollered. "You're willing to kiss another guy but not me! Who is he?" Harold demanded and held up a fist. "Whoever he is, I'm gonna pound him!"

Patty pushed down his fist. "Harold, he caught me off guard, ok? And I already slugged him."

"You did?" Patty nodded and Harold slunk down to the steps. She sat next to him. "So you didn't wanna kiss him?"

"I didn't even know him. He was just some model they brought in to pretend to be you." Realizing what she had said, Patty clamped her mouth shut but it was too late.

"Pretend to be me? You mean, they got some hottie to come in and you called him Harold and acted like he was me? On camera? So everybody in the country is gonna think that guy is me?"

"I'm sorry, Harold. I didn't want to…"

Harold looked hurt and revolted. "I can't believe you did that! I thought you were my friend!"

"I am your friend! Don't you remember what I told you at the beginning? We'll always be friends!"

Harold looked away. Patty guessed he didn't want her to see tears in his eyes. "I don't know if I want a friend who's willing to replace me with some dumb model guy."

"Oh Harold…"

"It was a lousy thing to do, Patty. A lousy, stinking, rotten thing to do."

Patty looked at her saddle shoes. "You're right, Harold."

He turned to look at her. "I-I am?"

"I should've never let Lyle talk me into it. I should've just said no."

"Lyle…" said Harold. "That's the guy who promised me lots of food if I tried to kiss you."

"Oh he did, did he? That creep." The two were quiet for a minute as they watched cars pass by in the street. "This whole reality show has really screwed everything up. I wish we had never started it."

"Me too." Harold agreed.

"The whole country now thinks I'm some ditzy cheerleader who likes to wear skimpy clothes and that I have a Chihuahua."

"I know." Harold sat back and looked at the sky. "It's too bad you couldn't show 'em the real you. Make a show of your own…"

"A show of my own?" Patty started, and then smiled. "Harold, you're a genius!"

"Nah. I thought I was once, but it turns out the aptitude tests got mixed up…" Patty leaned over and kissed Harold on the cheek. He blushed fiercely but smiled as he touched his face.

"Harold, do you have a video camera?"

"Yeah, why?"

"We're going to make our own show."


	10. Chapter 10

10: One week later

* * *

Arnold was sitting at his computer in his room. Gerald was at his side as he watched him play a game. "No, no! Turn the canoe to the left! The left!"

"I'm trying!"

Onscreen the boat hit a log and tipped over. _"Careful! You've just hit a log and capsized!"_ The game said. _"You've been bitten by a giant catfish..."_

The life bar, already dangerously low, finally emptied. _"Your quest for the Inca city has come to an end…"_

"Aw man!"

Arnold sighed. "Looks like the Inca King's not getting his cinchona tonight, Gerald." He exited the game. "I'm tired of this anyway. We've been trying to get to the end for two hours…"

"What's that?" Said Gerald, looking at the bottom of the screen where a graphic of an envelope sat blinking.

"It's an email." Arnold clicked on the blinking picture and read. "It's from Patty Smith. She sent me a link to a video. Looks like she sent it to almost everyone in our school."

"Well open it up!"

The video started with Patty, dressed in her normal clothes, sitting on the couch. Mittel was on her lap.

"_Hi. My name is Patty Smith. You might know me from the TV show 'Short Smiths.' On that show they call me Tricia, but that's not my name. In fact, a lot of what you see on the show is different than what happens in real life. My friend Harold, the _real _Harold, and I are making this video to show you the truth. First of all, this is Mittel. He's not a Chihuahua…"_

"I hope her producer doesn't get too upset about this." Said Arnold as he watched.

* * *

Lyle was beating his head against a wall as Patty's video played in the background. Billy was sitting in the computer chair watching. "Three hundred thousand views in just the last hour, Lyle…"

"I KNOW I KNOW!"

* * *

The camera was now on Patty's parents in the kitchen as they made dinner. Mrs. Smith was standing on a stepstool as she sprinkled seasoning on stir fry. Patty talked to the camera.

"_These are my parents Henry and Zelda, the best parents in the world. They both have a condition called _Achondroplasia. _A lot of people think I'm adopted but I'm not._

"_Most people have a gene called FGFR3. Sometimes this gene is defective though and that can cause dwarfism. People with dwarfism carry two copies of FGFR3, one that causes the dwarfism and one that causes normal height. Because of this, I had a three in four chance of being born with dwarfism like them, but I wasn't."_

Mr. Smith smiled and hugged Patty. _"Our Pretty Patty Petunia is our miracle baby!"_

Mrs. Smith smiled too, at the camera. _"Harold, would you like to stay for dinner?"_

"_OH BOY! FOOD!"_

* * *

Billy looked thoughtful as he watched. "You know, Lyle, this isn't bad stuff. Camera work's a little shaky, but it's kind of…sweet. In an old fashioned kind of way, but still…"

"Sweet, schmeet! She's undoing everything we've worked for! Now everyone'll think we're frauds!"

"We are frauds."

"_But we don't want people to know it!" _He howled.

Gerald smiled as he and Arnold watched. "This is better than the show!"

"That's because it's real."

Patty was standing in front of PS 118. _"This is my school. I'm not a cheerleader. We don't have cheerleaders but I can show you some of the things I do like."_

The scene changed to Patty sitting on a couch between her mother and a woman who looked like an older, white haired version of Patty with spectacles. They were all holding knitting needles and working on a quilt. _"I like to knit. Grandma taught my Mom and my Mom taught me. Every year we work together to make a blanket and then we donate it to the Homeless Shelter where I volunteer."_

Again, the scene changed. Now Patty was standing in front of a rack of DVDs and video tapes. _"I like old movies. I'll never forget the first time I watched 'Singin' in the Rain' with Grandma. I thought it was the best movie I'd ever seen. A lot of people don't like old movies because they think they're boring. To those people I say, you're missing out. Give them a chance. I think you might be surprised."_

The final scene was of the living room. _"Sometimes after dinner, we like to listen to music as a family. My parents even like to dance together."_

A CD was playing and Patty's parents were singing along as they moved to the music.

"_Lord Almighty, I feel my temperature rising!"_ Sang Mr. Smith.

Mrs. Smith sang the next line. _"Higher, higher…It's burning through to my soul!"_

"_Girl, girl, girl, you gonna set me on fire!"_

"_My brain is flaming! I don't know which way to go!"_

Now they sang together. _"Your kisses lift me higher! Like the sweet song of a choir! You light my morning sky! With burning love!"_

Patty spoke to the camera as they continued to dance in the background. _"This is what my family is about. Before the TV show, we didn't have a lot of money, but we had love. And no matter how much things change thanks to the show, we'll always have love. We're the Smiths. The_ real _Smiths. Goodbye for now and thank you for letting me show you the truth."_


	11. Chapter 11

11:

* * *

Patty had no idea what to expect from Lyle the next time she saw him. A screaming tantrum maybe. Or threats to sue. She braced herself for anything as she walked into the room and sat in the chair across from him.

He was slunk down in his seat, hands clasped together like a super villain. "Congratulations, Patty. You've won."

"Won what? I wasn't trying to win anything. I was trying to show people my real life."

"Your video, amateur as it was, is a smash hit." He snapped his fingers and someone handed him a packet of paper. "Comments read, _'I like Patty better than Tricia.' 'This is so sweet. Why can't the show be more like this?' 'Elvis makes everything better.' 'Henry and Zelda are so cute!' _And on and on and on…"He tossed the packet over his shoulder. "A smart producer would retool the show. Make it just like your video. Deliver what the people want, and the people want more of Patty."

"Are you a smart producer, Lyle?"

"It doesn't matter. The network says 'Short Smiths' is cancelled."

Patty nearly fell out of her seat. _"What?"_

"Orders from above. The big bosses want to make room for our newest show, 'Bobbing for Bucks!'" He stood. "Of course, we're still in need of a host. If you want the gig, it could generate lots of viewer interest…"

"I'm not, thank you. I've had enough of reality TV."

"Your choice." And with that, he and his entourage filed out.

* * *

"So just like that, you're cancelled?" Harold asked. He and Patty were at a table outside 'The Sundae Salon', eating ice cream.

Patty smiled. "Great isn't it?"

"So what happens now? What about the money?"

"We still have lots of money left over, even after paying off all the bills. We're getting the house fixed up. Oh, and my parents using some of the money to pay for night classes next fall! They're getting to go to college, just like they always wanted!"

Harold had chocolate smeared around his mouth as he finished his sundae. "So you won't miss it at all?"

"I'll miss it like I'd miss getting my retainer tightened." Patty smiled once again. "Thanks, Harold."

"For what?"

"For, you know, helping me out with the camera and stuff."

"Oh that. Yeah, it was pretty fun! And I got to eat your Mom's stir fry! And your Grandma gave me hard candy!"

"And I also wanted to thank you for being such a good friend, even if I wasn't."

Harold shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I know that Lyle guy was behind it all."

"I still should've stood up to him. Not let him talk me into something I knew wasn't right." She reached over and squeezed his hand. He looked surprised. Surprised, but happy just the same. "So thanks for sticking by me."

"No prob."

* * *

As Patty walked into the house, she could see her parents on the couch. They were looking at course catalogs. Mr. Smith was pointing to something with one hand and holding his wife's with the other.

Looking at her parents, Patty felt her heart swell with love until she was sure it would burst through her chest. And before she knew it, she had gone over and was hugging them so hard she had lifted the pair off the sofa.

"Oh my!"

"Dear me, what's this for?"

"Because you two are the best." She answered.

Her father chuckled and petted her hair. "No Pretty Patty Petunia, _you're _the best!" And with that they wrapped their short arms around her and hugged back.


End file.
